


The Stranger

by Manuscriptor



Series: Chapter 1 [2]
Category: High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, They Lived AU, not many other tags tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuscriptor/pseuds/Manuscriptor
Summary: Ronan, Connor, and Cara travel across the countryside, wandering with no direction now that their home is destroyed. They don't know where they are going or why and how long it will take, just that they need to keep moving.And maybe get some help along the way. When you meet a stranger who's willing to help you, you tend not to ask questions.
Series: Chapter 1 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676602
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. the stranger

**Author's Note:**

> someone requested a continuation of The Whitlaws, so here i am

Ronan didn’t really put on a disguise when they went into town, but after so many weeks, his hair had grown out more than he anticipated. Connor regularly teased him about facial hair, and while Ronan checked every pool and stream but there wasn’t much to show for all the ribbing. Still, when they came across the small cluster of buildings, Ronan still fixed his hair so that it hid him as much as possible and tied a scrap of cloth over his face.

Cara tore the lace from her own dress and even though it was smudged with mud, it was better than nothing.

“You two will stay here,” he said as they settled their horses in a small clearing off the side of the road. “I don’t like splitting up, but it’s better if only one of us gets caught rather than all of us.” He didn’t even know if they were still being chased, but it was a precaution he had to take. 

At this point, after so many long days on the road, Cara and Connor were too exhausted to argue. They just slid down to the ground and nodded silently, falling into their normal routine of moving aside any rocks and branches to set up their makeshift camp. 

Ronan’s heart broke that this had become regular for them, but he secured the cloth over his mouth and nose and urged his horse forward, trying not to let it bother him too much.

The roads in the town were dirt with cartwheel groves worn down on each side. There were a couple of other horses tied to different storefronts, so Ronan wasn’t completely out of place. He still kept his head down though and did his best to make eye contact with as few people as possible. 

He easily spotted the main store that the small village had and steered in that direction. There was an open spot to tie his horse and his boots hit the dirt with a thump. His legs had long since stopped hurting from the amount of riding he was doing, but he did walk through the front doors with a sort of bow to his legs that he wasn’t used to yet. 

The store was one that Ronan was slowly beginning to recognize. They had steered clear of any major cities, and most of the small towns and villages had a convenience store that had any and everything that could be purchased. The only selection was on the shelves, and if you didn’t see it, the owner was hard pressed to find it without a steep cost added on for their troubles. Ronan managed to find food and some bedding to keep them alive, but clothes were expensive and while they would eventually need to replace what they were wearing, they just couldn’t afford it at the moment. 

Now that was strange. 

Ronan wasn’t used to things being too expensive. Things had never been outside his price range. And now everything was outside his price range.

He put the package of salted meat back on the shelf with a sigh, turning to the bundles of dried fruit instead. That was much more affordable. He browsed the shelves without looking too long at anything in particular, vaguely wondering where he would be able to get more money. 

They had peddled what little jewelry they had been wearing when they had fled their hold and they couldn’t afford to lose their weapons or their horses. Perhaps there was a job board somewhere, and someone would pay for a few farm hands for a couple days’ work. 

Ronan just added it to his list of things he had to do.

He paid for enough food to last them a day or two and tucked it safely into his bag. The owner didn’t look twice at the cloth over his face. The man behind the counter looked too bored out of his mind to care about anything. He didn’t even talk as he summed up the total of Ronan’s items. 

And Ronan almost left without a word too. At the last moment, he stopped and turned back to the man. 

“Is there a job board around here?” 

The man didn’t even look up at him. “By the main square. There are booths and stalls set up, you can’t miss it.” 

Ronan just nodded his thanks and ducked out of the shop as quickly as possible.

Just like the owner said, Ronan really couldn’t miss the main market. All the booths and stalls were selling fresh fruits and vegetables, nothing that Ronan could buy. Or wanted. It would all go bad before he and his siblings could eat it Still, he politely browsed until he spotted the small wooden board nailed to a wall on the far side of the square and then he headed in that direction. 

Most of the posters were mercenary offers for wanted criminals--highwaymen, petty thieves, sometimes murderers. Those had the largest reward of all. There were a couple for common jobs like farmhands and simple home repairs. Ronan focused on these, hoping that there was something that would pay well and be worth the effort. 

Not that he knew how to do farm work or small home repairs, but maybe there was something he could figure out on the job and still get paid.

He was so focused on reading through his options that he didn’t realize that there was someone else browsing through the posters until he glanced up and realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, sorry,” he said on instinct, stepping away to give the other person access to the entire board. 

“It’s fine,” the other person replied. They wore a mask, strangely, a plain thing carved out of wood.

But Ronan really shouldn’t be judging considering he was wearing dirty lace over the bottom half of his face. He just busied himself with his own posters, trying to find the one that paid the best with the least amount of work and was something that he actually _knew_ how to do.

“You need money?” the other person asked. 

Ronan glanced up briefly, not wanting to stare at the strange person. He quickly buried his nose back in his own posters. “Uh . . . kind of,” he said, not wanting to say too much to the stranger. “Nothing too big.” 

The stranger nodded and then turned one of the posters they were holding around. “How about this one?” they asked. “I need some help, if you want to join me.” 

The price on the poster was ten times the amount on the job that Ronan was considering. He was immediately jealous but wasn’t stupid enough to trust this stranger just yet. A mask made him suspicious, and his parents had warned him multiple times about what strangers would do if they managed to get him away from his home.

“Look, I promise I’m not weird,” the stranger said, as if reading his mind. He reached up and grabbed the mask. 

Ronan almost missed the spell that the stranger cast and he didn’t know what it was. He knew enough magic to pass his classes and impress his tutors and satisfy his parents, but he was much more inclined to weapons play. He was educated, like he should be, but didn’t know enough to know what spell the person had just used. 

He stepped back, putting some distance between them, just to be safe. 

The person just pulled the mask off of their face though, giving Ronan a smile.

He was a full human with dark hair and amber eyes. He was almost familiar, but Ronan figured it was the homesickness from being on the road for so long. 

The stranger tucked the mask into their bag and then offered the poster to Ronan once again. “What do you say?” he asked. “It’s easy money, and the more of us there are, the less dangerous it is.” 

Ronan was still reluctant to say yes. He needed to get back to Cara and Connor. But at the same time. If he could go back with reward money. He didn’t want to go with this stranger, but the offer was looking more and more tempting. 

The stranger gave him a cocksure smile, like he didn’t care if Ronan would help him or stab a knife into his gut. “I don’t need your story,” he said. 

Ronan raised an eyebrow. He didn’t understand. 

The stranger shrugged. “I’m just saying, I don’t need your life story. Hell, I don’t need your name. A job is a job and it doesn’t have to be anything more. I mean, if that changes your mind.” He gave Ronan a once-over. “You just look like you could use the money.” 

Ronan wasn’t used to being looked at with pity, but he wasn’t above refusing help just yet. He squared back his shoulders and made himself look as confident as possible. “Fine,” he said. He patted his bag. “I need to take this back to my . . . camp.”

The stranger just smirked. “Take your time,” he said and then gestured to the board. “I’ll be waiting.” 

Ronan nodded and then turned and hurried away. He circled the twisting alleyways a couple times just to make sure he wasn’t being followed. It wasn’t easy. He clambered over crates and boxes and fell into someone’s compost heap at some point. He was still brushing dirty and fruit peelings off himself when he stumbled back into the clearing where Cara and Connor were.

Cara was already asleep, her arms folded under her head as a makeshift pillow. She must’ve been exhausted because she didn’t even stir when Ronan stumbled into the clearing.

Connor was trying to coax his small pile of twigs and dry grass into some sort of fire but not having much luck. 

“Food,” Ronan said simply as he set the bag on the ground. He headed straight for Connor’s horse, unclipping a second sword he had taken from their home before its destruction. He normally travelled with just the one, but if he was going to do this job, he needed the weaponry. 

“What are you doing?” Connor asked. He didn’t get up from his makeshift fire, apparently too exhausted for that. 

“There’s a job,” Ronan said, because he couldn’t afford to lie right now. “For money.” 

“Since when did we do jobs?” Connor asked. He sighed and sat back on his heels as the few sparks he had managed to create were snuffed out.

“Since we don’t have any more money,” Ronan said. He wore most of his armor almost constantly but took a moment to cover all of his family’s emblems that were emblazoned into the metal and leather. Better to keep his identity as undercover as possible.

Connor grunted, and Ronan could tell he wanted to argue but didn’t. That was good, because Ronan didn’t want to argue either. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Ronan said, finishing up his preparations and re-securing the fabric over his face. “I promise.” 

Connor just nodded. “I’ll tell Cara when she wakes up.” 

Ronan just grunted and hurried back towards the town. He didn’t want to keep the stranger waiting. 

And the stranger was exactly where Ronan had left him, still browsing the posters.

“I’m ready to go,” he said. 

The stranger just nodded with a smile and put a hand on the rapier that was strapped to his own hip. “Great!” he said cheerfully. “Look, the poster says the thieves’ camp to the north of town, and it shouldn’t be too hard to find them.” 

Ronan nodded. “Let’s do this as fast as possible.” 

The stranger just shot him a dazzling smile. “Of course!” 

With that, there wasn’t any reason to waste any more time, and Ronan and the stranger walked out of the village. The surrounding area was mostly cleared into fields and wetlands. Past that, were the woods and hills that the thieves apparently made their home. Ronan had never done anything like this before, but the stranger was whistling a tune like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

Ronan was much more on edge. 

He kept scanning the edge of the trees and the underbrush, looking for any sign of danger. He didn’t even see anything when the stranger placed a hand on his chest and brought a finger to his lips. He nodded ahead of them on the trail.

Ronan hadn’t even noticed the wisp of smoke drifting out of the tree line ahead of them, and maybe that was the point. He would’ve kicked himself for being so incompetent but the stranger was already drawing his weapon and sneaking forward. 

Ronan drew his own sword and followed him. He had never done anything like this before. His stomach was flipping with nerves. 

He and the stranger crept through the forest, following the signs of life until they found the clearing that the half dozen or so thieves had put up their camp. They were all human, thankfully, which made Ronan more assured of their chance of victory. 

The stranger crouched behind a row of underbrush and Ronan joined him. 

“I’ll go left,” the stranger said, pointing in the direction with two fingers. “You go right. We take out as many as we can and meet at the back. From there, we take whoever is left and split the loot. Ready?” 

Ronan was about to say no, but the stranger just clapped him on the shoulder and brandished his rapier. 

“Go!” 

Ronan jumped out from behind their cover at the same time as the stranger, but he wasn’t nearly as prepared. 

The stranger immediately took out two of these thieves with practiced spells and turned on a third with a wild whirl of his rapier and a war cry. Ronan had just situated himself in the proper stance in front of his first thief, trying to make sure his posture was perfect. 

The thief, on the other hand, wasn’t as considerate as Ronan’s normal opponents. 

She lunged forward wielding twin dangers. And Ronan barely got a chance to prepare himself, fumbling with his defense in a way that would have made his teacher outraged. 

He deflected one strike and only half blocked the other, taking a slice to his upper arm as payment for his carelessness. And yet, his opponent didn’t give him a chance to right himself. She seemed set on slicing his throat, and Ronan hadn’t faced an opponent like this in a while. He was panicking and unbalanced, and that was the worst thing to be in a sword fight. 

A sweep to his legs left him sprawled across the ground. He managed to hold onto his rapier, because he wasn’t that out of practice, but the thief now leered over him, a triumphant look on her face. She twirled her dangers in preparation to cut him down but completely forgot about the other half of this fight. 

The stranger caught her in a wide slash across her back, sending a spray of blood over Ronan and downing the thief in a moment. 

“I thought you knew how to fight!” the stranger said, offering Ronan a hand. 

“I do!” Ronan insisted, letting himself get pulled to his feet. “It’s just, usually I’m more prepared.” 

Now back-to-back, he and the stranger faced the last two thieves together. And maybe that was for the best. The last two were huge and hulking and had more muscles than Ronan had ever seen on a person. He was more prepared now, and with someone at his side, it was easier to sink into a fighting stance. 

Ronan dodged the blows more professionally now, easily finding a hole in his opponent’s defense and driving his sword home, right through the man’s chest. The stranger finished the other thief off with a blast of magic, and then the fight was over. 

It had happened so quickly.

Ronan was breathing heavier than he was comfortable with, and in a panic, his hands flew to his face to make sure the fabric was still in place. It was, thankfully, and he was finally able to look at the stranger. 

“Well,” the stranger said. “Good thing the poster said dead or alive.” He walked over to one of the first thieves he had killed and decapitated the head from the body with one swipe of his sword. Without a look of disgust or hesitation, he crouched and grabbed it, shaking off a bit of the blood before wrapping it in a spare section of cloth and tucking it into his bag. 

“I’m sorry,” Ronan said. He was still trying to catch his breath and he was all too aware that the stranger had barely broken a sweat. 

“It’s fine,” the stranger said but then gave him a look. “I just thought you would know how to hold your own.” 

“I _do know,_ ” Ronan said. He was already embarrassed over what had happened. He just wanted his cut of the treasure and then he would get out of there as fast as possible.

“Could’ve fooled me,” the stranger said. He wiped his sword down on the shirt of a dead thief before returning it to its sheath. He was already scouring through the campsite for items to take, which Ronan wrinkled his nose at. 

He wasn’t a barbarian.

“I just wasn’t ready,” he said. “If you would have given me a moment to prepare myself instead of charging ahead, we would have done so much better.” 

The stranger snorted as he pulled a coin purse off one of the bodies and flipped through it. “That’s what my older brother would say,” he said. “And look at me? I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Yeah?” Ronan said. He couldn’t bring himself to dig through the quickly cooling bodies. “Well, maybe your brother is right.” 

“He would love to hear you say that,” the stranger said. He seemed to have no problem with the fact that he was covered in blood. “But hey, we’ll get our reward no matter what.” 

“Thank the gods,” Ronan muttered. He brushed the dirt off his clothes the best he could and wiped his face on his sleeve, grimacing at the blood that came away. He couldn’t wait to buy himself and Connor and Care new outfits. And get himself cleaned up.

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” the stranger said with a teasing smile. “I’m the one who saved your ass during that fight.” 

Ronan just rolled his eyes. While the teasing banter was familiar and made his heart ache for his siblings, he wasn’t about to get too homely with this stranger. He wanted to get this job open as fast as possible and while the stranger wasn’t . . . bad to be around, Ronan was anxious to get back to his family. 

“Let’s just get back to town,” he said. “And uh, get the reward money.” 

The stranger gave him a look. “You . . . don’t know how bounties work, do you?” 

Ronan felt his face go hot and he was glad that he had fabric over his face. He busied himself with cleaning up his own sword even though it didn’t really need it. 

The stranger just laughed. “It’ll take a day or two,” he said. He patted the bag that held the head. “I mean, this will help. They need to verify the identity and make sure we got the right guy. Or else they would be handing out money to anyone who claimed that they did the job.” 

Ronan almost cursed. 

Almost. 

“I thought we got it right away,” he said through gritted teeth. “I _needed_ it right away.” 

That’s when the smile and joking fell from the stranger’s face, and for the first time since Ronan hat met him, he seemed more serious than carefree. He even put his hands on his hips, pulling himself up to his full height. Ronan was an elf though and still towered over him no matter what.

“It’s just the law,” he said with a sort of tone that Ronan couldn’t argue with. “I didn’t make the rules.” 

Ronan sighed and slumped his shoulders. He didn’t want to fight this stranger. Obviously. He was clearly more experienced than him and Ronan wouldn’t stand a chance. So he wanted to make it clear that he didn’t want to fight. 

“I know,” he said, even though he didn’t know. “I just . . . I need that money and I can’t really wait too much longer.” 

To his surprise, the stranger dug into his pocket and pulled out the different coin purses he had taken off the bodies. He tossed one at Ronan, and he barely managed to catch it without making a fool of himself. He didn’t even have to open it to know that it was heavy and held more than enough money to help his situation. 

“There,” the stranger said. “That will tide you over until we get the reward.” He shrugged. “The poster doesn’t say anything about the loot we pick up along the way, so we’re free to take whatever we want.” 

Ronan blinked in surprise at the amount he had been handed. While it wasn’t an overwhelming amount, it was more than he had seen in several weeks. He did his best not to stare in awe before tucking it quickly into his pocket. 

“Thank you,” he managed. 

The stranger’s face wobbled. Not his expression, but his entire face shifted, like it wasn’t real and there was something underneath. 

Before Ronan could say anything, the stranger was pulling out that same wooden mask and was hidden in a moment. He sheathed his sword next and shot Ronan a thumbs up. 

“I’ll let you know when I get the money,” he said. 

He didn’t say how. He didn’t say when. He didn’t even give Ronan a chance to ask any questions before turning and bolting into the undergrowth. He was gone a moment later, and Ronan was left in the clearing with the dead bodies. And he definitely didn’t want to spend any longer there than he had too. He collected himself, made sure he was heading in the right direction, and then headed back to the village. 

It took him longer than he wanted to admit, but he eventually found his way back. He stopped in the store a second time and bought nicer food—salted meats and candied fruit and baked goods—before gathering his horse and riding back to the clearing where Connor and Cara were. 

Cara was awake when he arrived, and it was Connor who was sleeping peacefully this time. She looked relieved to see him, jumping to her feet and grabbing him in a hug as soon as his feet hit the ground. 

“Connor told me everything,” she said as she pulled away, dragging him towards the fire. Connor must’ve finally got it lit. “I was scared you weren’t coming back.” 

“The sun hasn’t even set,” Ronan said, but he had to admit he had the same worries. “I’m fine. I promise. And look.” He showed her the food and even split a pastry with her, doing his best not to make a show about how delicious sugar was after all of this. 

Cara seemed just as impressed and she looked at Connor’s sleeping form, obviously debating whether or not she should wake him up. 

“Let him sleep,” Ronan said. “Besides, I didn’t even get the reward money.” 

Cara frowned. “What do you mean?” 

And Ronan explained the stranger and how it would take a couple days for them to be given the reward, and if they even wanted to stick around for that long. He explained that the stranger had given him a bag of coin already and that’s how he had gotten the food. He admitted that he wasn’t sure if they should stay even, but the stranger didn’t exactly seem _un_ trustworthy. 

“I’d say we should wait,” Cara said, licking the last bit of icing off her fingers in a way that definitely wasn’t ladylike. “We could use the money. But we can wait until Connor wakes up to see what he thinks.” 

Ronan nodded. That seemed like the best plan of action. 

He and Cara sat around the fire for several long, silent moments, both of them watching the flames as the sun sank further in the sky. It wasn’t dark. Not yet. But Ronan would probably fall asleep as soon as his head hit the bedroll. Traveling on the road and that small job had exhausted him. He was ready for sleep. 

“Do you trust him?” Cara asked. 

Ronan already knew she was talking about the stranger. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I want to. We need the money.” 

Cara nodded at that. “I hope we can trust him,” she said and then she shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.” 

Ronan nodded and then yawned without meaning to. 

“Go to sleep,” Cara said immediately, pointing him to the bedrolls that were already laid out on the opposite side of the fire. “I’ll take the first watch. You need the rest.” 

She sounded so much like their mother, it hurt. And Ronan knew better than to argue. 

He didn’t fall asleep the moment he settled himself in between the blankets. He had a moment to worry about the stranger and whether or not they could trust him. Ronan told himself that they would wait two days, and if the stranger didn’t contact them, they would leave. No questions. They couldn’t risk it. 

And then Ronan sank into dreamless sleep.


	2. not a stranger

It was two days later, and Ronan, Connor, and Cara were starting to get restless in their small clearing. They had so much free time that the space had been cleaned up significantly. The grass had even been worn down in some parts so that it was turned to beaten down dirt. They now had a designated area for the fire and preparing food, a place with their bedrolls designated for sleeping, and even a section for their horses to sleep and eat. 

It was like having a house that didn’t have any floors, walls or ceiling. And was outside. And just wasn’t a house in general. 

It didn’t take that long for the different restaurant owners and bartenders to recognize Ronan and Connor and Cara and even call them by name. It was strange at first, but also nice. Sort of like when their cooks at home came out of the kitchen to chat. Ronan was still getting used to it.

Just like he told Cara and Connor, he didn’t want to stay for long. It was the second morning—turning to the afternoon, and they were gathering their stuff together. It was weird to be leaving a place that they had stayed for so long, but Ronan didn’t want to risk it. 

He hadn’t lied to the stranger. They would leave without the money. If they didn’t hear from him by sundown, then they would have no other choice but to move on. 

They had bought plenty of food already with the first bag of money with some still left over. Cara now wore a pair of sturdy riding pants, and both Ronan and Connor had new jackets to wear. They were too big, since they had been made for humans that were more heavily muscled then them and it wasn’t like they could get anything fitted. 

It was the first time Ronan had worn something that wasn’t perfectly made to fit him, and he constantly had to pull the sleeves up or have it fall over his hands. 

They were almost finished packing up the horses as the sun sank lower and lower, when there was a voice in the back of Ronan’s head that was very distinctly not his own. 

“Testing, uh, hey, this is the person who did the bounty with you. Meet me at the Toppled Stool. I’ll be waiting for you there.” 

Connor and Cara were looking at him when he finally blinked back to his body, and Ronan paused in his task of strapping the saddle to his horse. They must’ve known something magical was up because both of them were looking very concerned. 

“That was him,” Ronan said. “Um, magic, I think. He said to meet him in town.” 

“Should we wait here for you?” Cara asked.

Ronan looked at their horses, already packed, and how their campsite was already broken down. He didn’t want to make them wait around in the clearing, so he shook his head. 

“Come with me,” he said. “It’s the Toppled Stool. You can wait outside and then we can just leave from there instead of coming back here.” 

Connor and Cara both nodded in agreement. Connor pulled himself up onto his horse in one smooth motion and settled himself in the saddle. It took Cara a couple tries but eventually she pulled herself up next too. Ronan pulled himself up next.

He didn’t want to put his siblings in danger but this was the best plan he could think of. 

Together, they rode into town, Ronan leading the way since he knew the stores better than they did. There were plenty of places for them to tie their horses. They all slid to the ground because they couldn’t loiter like that, and Ronan tied the reins to the wooden pole. 

“I’ll be quick,” he promised his siblings, already securing the fabric over his face like he had done before.

They just nodded and huddled together, out of the way from strangers’ stares as much as they could. 

Ronan pushed into the bar, not sure what he should expect. It was later at night, which meant the booths were crowded and the seats were mostly full. Ronan, despite his time spent here, still didn’t know how to wave down the bartender to order a drink. Luckily, there was someone already waving at him from a booth in a corner, and Ronan recognized the amber-eyed human from the job that he had done a couple days ago.

He was sitting at a table near the back of the tavern, all alone in a small booth that had room enough for three or four people. He already had a drink, too, and if Ronan guessed who the second tankard was for, he figured he would have a drink too when he sat down. 

He headed in that direction.

“I bet you thought you had seen the last of me,” the stranger said as Ronan slid into his seat. 

“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you,” Ronan admitted. 

The stranger pushed the tankard across the table at him and then took a drink from his own cup. “You have no faith in me,” he said with a teasing twinkle in his eye. 

Ronan didn’t. He didn’t know this man. He wasn’t sure if he should just say that out loud, so he took his tankard instead, taking a drink of the pale brown liquid. He barely stopped himself from making a face and spitting it back out. It was nothing like the fine liquors and delicate, fruity wines that his family served around the table. 

It was harsh and burned in his mouth before it even reached the back of his throat. Ronan choked it down so he didn’t look out of place. Everyone else didn’t seem to be bothered at all. He didn’t think he would be taking a second drink though. 

“Well?” he managed to choke out. His eyes were watering and he was pretty sure he looked less intimidating and serious than he wanted. He tried to pull himself together. “I’m expecting the money from the bounty we filled.” 

The stranger raised an eyebrow at him but reached beneath the table. 

Ronan tensed without meaning too, but the stranger just pulled out a bag of coins and tossed it on the table between them. Ronan should’ve known better than to grab it so eagerly, but he couldn’t stop himself. He reached for it before he could stop himself, and the stranger had grabbed his wrist, his grip tighter than Ronan anticipated. 

“Why do you need this money?” the stranger asked. 

His gaze was intense, no longer joking or humored, and he locked eyes with Ronan. And Ronan wasn’t sure if he should look away or pull away. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do and when he opened his mouth, no words came out. 

“Why do you need the money?” the stranger asked again. “I’ve seen every type of person down on their luck, and you aren’t like any of them.” 

“I thought we did the job with no questions asked,” Ronan said. He refused to let go of the bag of money even if it meant that he couldn’t pull out of the stranger’s grip. 

“Well, now I’m asking,” the stranger said. “I thought you were normal.” 

“I am normal.” 

“I think we both know that you’re lying.” 

Ronan sucked in a sharp breath, not sure what he was supposed to say to that. He felt out of place ever since he had left Bay Hollow, but he wasn’t about to tell that to this stranger. He scowled and almost considered throwing his drink in the stranger’s face, but that was something that ladies in higher social circles did when receiving unwanted advancements. 

He wasn’t sure how his bluff had been called, but he definitely didn’t know how to get out of it. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he thought the stranger would believe him this time, but he didn’t have a backup plan. 

With a sly smile, the stranger pulled a knife from his belt and set it obviously on the table between them. He just left it there, because just like Ronan, he didn’t want to draw attention to them either. It was an obvious threat, and Ronan swallowed sharply. 

“Are you understanding me a little bit better?” the stranger asked. His smile was almost friendly, if Ronan didn’t know the real situation. 

He nodded without saying a word. 

“Now,” the stranger said. “Take the cloth away from your face.” 

Without much of a choice, Ronan reached up with his free hand and pulled the cloth away from his face. He tossed it carelessly on the table in front of him, just to show some sort of deviance towards the stranger. 

The stranger’s eyes narrowed at him, and his grip on Ronan’s wrist faltered a bit. 

“Hood,” he ordered. 

No one else in the bar was paying attention to them, all too busy getting drunk after a long day’s work and catching up with their fellows. Even the wait staff didn’t seem to notice what was happening in the corner booth. Ronan desperately wanted one of them to stop by and ask them if they wanted drinks or food. Anything to break up this confrontation. 

They didn’t. 

And Ronan slowly reached up and pulled down his hood as well. He had his long hair tied up to keep it out of the way, but without the hood, there wasn’t much left of his disguise. Was there a bounty for him and his siblings? Was this stranger looking to make even more money? Would he kill Ronan just like they killed the thief? 

Ronan just wished there was a way to tell Connor and Cara to run so they would at least be able to get to safety. 

Instead, though, the stranger’s eyes went wide. 

He snatched his hand away from Ronan, and Ronan almost ran right then and there as soon as he was free. But somehow the stranger’s reaction made him pause. 

“Ronan?” the stranger asked. 

He said Ronan’s name like he didn’t believe it, and Ronan didn’t even know how he knew his name. Perhaps from whatever bounty, but he wasn’t sure what else. The knife was still on the table, and it wasn’t like Ronan could pull his sword out in the middle of a bar. 

“Oh my gods, Ronan,” the stranger said. He was almost crying now, and Ronan didn’t know why. 

“I don’t know who you are,” he spat. He was angry that this stranger knew him and he didn’t know this stranger. 

“It’s me,” the stranger said. With a wave of his hand, he dispelled some sort of magic, and the illusion was dropped. 

And suddenly Ronan was angry that he didn’t realize it sooner. 

The dark hair. The amber eyes. The rapier. The way the stranger spoke and carried himself. Ronan should’ve realized it before, and he would curse himself to the nine circles and back for not realizing it sooner. 

“Paddock,” he whispered.

He hadn’t seen his younger brother in forever, and maybe that’s why he didn’t recognize him. That, and the illusion spell Paddy had used. 

His hair was longer than it had been when he had left, and he had lost the baby fat that had lingered around his face before. His eyes were different too, less eager for the world and more weathered. Like someone who had seen things that they shouldn’t have seen. 

And Ronan never would have thought he would see his younger brother here, of all places.

And maybe that’s why he didn’t realize who the stranger was right away.

“Oh, Paddy,” he repeated. 

Paddy didn’t even say anything. He just stood and pulled Ronan out of the booth and into a hug. He had grown in the time he had been gone, and they were now the same height. Which was completely strange. Ronan wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. 

The rest of the bar still wasn’t paying attention to them, but that didn’t stop Ronan from pushing away first out of embarrassment. Public displays of affection were never appropriate in the more formal circles. 

Ronan didn’t even realize he was crying until he wiped absentmindedly at his face and his hand came away wet.

Paddy was crying too and he didn’t seem that ashamed of it. His own tears streamed down his face and he didn’t even try to wipe them away.

“Gods,” Paddy said. “I . . . I can’t believe you’re alive. I saw the house burned and everything was gone and no one was there and—” 

“We left,” Ronan said. “We got out in time. I . . . I don’t know about everyone else but Connor, Cara, and I all managed to get away before the house went up in flames.”

Paddy’s eyes shone, and he grabbed Ronan’s hand tight, almost shaking him before stopping himself. “Connor and Cara?!” he asked.

Ronan had almost forgotten about them. Not really, but the moment had taken over his mind, that he had forgotten about everyone else besides himself and Paddy.

He nodded quickly. “They’re outside,” he said. “I never thought . . . I didn’t know you would be here!” 

“Are you all okay?” Paddy asked. 

Ronan didn’t really have an answer for that. He just took Paddy’s hand in his own and pulled him towards the front door of the bar.

Connor and Cara jumped to attention when the door swung open, and they both reached for their weapons on instinct. Ronan had to put his hands up to stop them from attacking. That was what they had been driven to. 

Paddy didn’t seem to care. 

He pushed past Ronan and grabbed Connor and Cara like they weren’t about to stab him. They seemed just as caught off guard by him because even when he pulled them into a huge hug, they looked shocked and confused. They looked at Ronan over Paddy’s shoulders, but he was still crying. Happy tears, but tears nonetheless. 

“Oh my gods,” Connor muttered, and then he seemed to realize who was hugging him and then he finally hugged back.

Cara had realized almost immediately and already had her face buried in Paddy’s shoulder, shaking as she quietly cried. 

Paddy, at least, seemed to have pulled himself together and he was the first one to push away from the hug. He wasn’t crying as hard, but it also looked like he was holding back a lot. 

“Come on,” he said. “We can’t stay here.” He half turned and finally spotted the horses that were still tied to the posts, and his face lit up all over again. “Portia and Sherry! And you brought Powder too?” 

And Ronan couldn’t help but laugh because _of course_ Paddy somehow remembered the names of the horses no matter how long he had been gone. And his younger brother had somehow pulled an apple out of his bag and was already splitting it between the three horses. They all seemed to remember him too, or maybe they just wanted more food, as they nuzzled his hands and pockets. Paddy was more than happy to oblige them. 

“How are you alive?” Connor said.

“Where have you been all this time?” Cara said. “With everything that happened . . . and we didn’t hear from you!” 

Paddy froze and then his hand slowly fell from Sherry’s nose. He grabbed the reins then and started to undo the knots. 

“We should talk about this on the road,” he said and his voice dropped lower. “You never know who could be listening.” 

Ronan nodded and shot Connor and Cara a stern look to tell them not to argue. They saddled up easily, but Paddy didn’t have a horse of his own. He pulled himself on the back of Powder, Cara’s draft, without a word to explain how he had been traveling on foot this whole time. 

Ronan led the way even though he didn’t know the roads or trails any better. They rode in silence for several minutes, until the sun was starting to disappear below the horizon. They didn’t stop just yet, but Paddy did talk first. 

“I did go back,” he said softly. “To the house I mean. There was nothing there, and I thought . . . I thought the worst.” 

Ronan nodded. It was reasonable to think. If there was nothing left of the house, why would they have survived? There wasn’t any way to figure out if each other were alive and how do you contact someone without an address? 

“No one knew what really had happened,” Paddy went on. “I mean, there were stories, but no one could agree on what had happened or who had attacked or if anyone had survived. I left. I wasn’t sure what else to do.” 

Ronan cleared his throat, looking over to where Ronan was hanging onto Cara to stay on the horse. “Mother and Father. . . . didn’t make it,” he said. 

Connor winced and didn’t say anything. 

“As far as we know,” Ronan went on. “We’re the only ones left. Not that we have any way of knowing.” 

They fell into silence again, since no one wanted to talk about that reality. They continued on as the sun sank lower and lower. No one suggested stopping so they didn’t. They just kept going because they didn’t have a good reason to stop.

“I’m no longer with the circus,” Paddy said finally, as if that were a good thing. “Which is good. I did odd jobs for a while and then found a different group.” 

“A different group?” Ronan repeated. He trusted his brother. He didn’t trust anyone else just yet.

“They’re great,” Paddy quickly said. “We’re _helping_ people, and it means a lot to me that I’m able to be a part of that.” 

Ronan scowled forward at the trail. Connor and Cara had been quiet this entire time, like they understood that their older siblings were arguing and that they shouldn’t interfere. Even their horses seemed to sense the tension. 

“I’m not asking you to come with me,” Paddy said. 

“You should be coming with us!” Ronan said. “We’re your family!” 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Paddy said. “Not anymore.” 

“It should be!” 

“Well it isn’t!” 

Silence again, but not for long. Paddy put his shoulders back, looking more confident that Ronan had ever seen him. Older too. He had scars that Ronan hadn’t seen before and was more muscled too. He had taken to living on the road better than everyone else had.

“I’m not asking you to come with me,” he repeated. “Because I understand that would be _selfish_. Like I said, we’re helping people. Doing good things. I want to continue that. I have some money saved up from jobs we’ve done. I can pay for rooms at an inn, even pay for passage to a coastal city. I’m sure Father has some trading vessels left over somewhere. You can make your own fortune.”

Ronan hated that idea. He hated that his younger brother was more prepared than him for all of this. He was supposed to be taking care of the family, not Paddy. It was never supposed to be like this.

“I’m going with Paddock, um, Paddy.” 

Ronan looked at Connor in surprise. Normally his younger brother knew how to hold his tongue when the adults were talking. When topics around the dinner table got more serious about business and politics, it was understood that only Ronan joined in their parents’ discussion. Sometimes Paddy would offer a word or two, but Connor and Cara kept quiet. 

Now, Connor was sitting tall in his saddle, staring defiantly at Ronan. 

Before Ronan could respond to him, Cara was sitting up tall as well. 

“Me too,” she said. “If Paddy has friends, then I want to meet them. It’ll be safer.” 

“We don’t _know that_ ,” Ronan said. He thought about pulling down on his horse’s reins and bringing the whole group to an abrupt stop. He didn’t. “We don’t know if anything is safe! Not anymore.” 

“You’re not Father,” Connor said, and the words were almost spiteful. 

Ronan was so surprised that whatever he was going to say died in his throat. He blinked at Connor. He never would have expected this from him. Cara, maybe, but not Connor. 

“You’re not Father,” Connor said with a bit more confidence. “He’s dead. And so is Mother. We don’t have them anymore, and you need to stop acting like you’re in charge.” 

Ronan opened his mouth to snap back, but Cara interrupted him. 

“We’re going with Paddy, Ronan,” she said softly. “You can come if you want—I really hope you do—but I think what Connor is trying to say is that we need to start making our own decisions.” 

Ronan huffed but knew he was outnumbered. No point in protesting further. He slumped and let Cara and Paddy pass him on the trail so that they could take the lead. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go with Paddy’s . . . group.” It still didn’t sound good, even when he said it out loud. 

Paddy was smiling, but it was obviously forced as himself to try to bring up the mood of the group. Maybe that’s what he had done in the circus—some sort of jester or clown. Ronan had no way of knowing, and now it was too awkward and tense to ask. 

He really didn’t want to leave his family. He didn’t. They were comforting and the only solid sort of hope that he could rely on. He just hadn’t noticed that Connor and Cara had become adults like himself. He didn’t have much else left in the world other than the three people around him, and he wasn’t ready to give that up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey, i'm on tumblr @manuscript-or

**Author's Note:**

> the joke is that the rich don't have any marketable skills and would struggle to survive alskdfasd 
> 
> anyway, i'm on tumblr @manuscript-or


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